


Gun Hill Road

by carmen_085



Category: Third Watch
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26477383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carmen_085/pseuds/carmen_085
Summary: In the years following 9/11 Bosco and Liz struggle with health issues and emotional trauma.  But when Fred dies suddenly, Faith’s children have no where to go. Can Bosco and Liz keep their own demons at bay and give Emily and Charlie a good life? (Sequel to “Last Exit to Brooklyn”)
Relationships: Maurice Boscorelli/Original Character
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**“Gun Hill Road”**

**Author:** carmen_085

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own any Third Watch characters. All original characters in this belong to me

**Summary:** In the years following 9/11 Bosco and Liz struggle with health issues and emotional trauma.But when Fred dies suddenly, Faith’s children have no where to go. Can Bosco and Liz keep their own demons at bay and give Emily and Charlie a good life? (Sequel to “Last Exit to Brooklyn”)

**Chapter One**

_The dream always started the same way; with a blue sky so deep and so endless it almost made him dizzy just to look at.He felt the hard pavement at his feet and the cool late summer breeze on his face.His uniform was broken and worn and the gun belt always sat snug but reassuringly familiar on his hips.This was his element; being on the beat…in the radio car.But as a strange awareness began to permeate his subconscious thoughts he began to feel an unsettled anxiety creep down his spine.The wind shifted and instead of warm summer air he smelled acrid, burning jet fuel, sweat, and fear.The chorus of panicked screams built until it almost deafened him and that was always the moment that he inevitably looked up._

_The building was burning…flames licking up the sides and thick black smoke billowing against that clear blue sky.He stood there, always just stood there, staring. Paralyzed, unable to move; a cell phone in one hand, the other twitching nervously over the butt of his Glock…as if that could help right now.As if anything he did could make a difference right now.He felt people running all around him, some brushing him as they ran for their lives heading north.Looking at the phone in his hand he saw his partner’s name on the screen and heard her screaming but he couldn’t form a single word as the phone slipped out of his hands and fell to the pavement._

_A CRASH and breaking glass made him jump as he looked up.Time slowed down.Each breath coming deliberately and slowly as the sound of blood rushing in his ears intensified.His eyes moved over the different colors amid the blackness.Grey and blue, black and white and then….always….orange and khaki.Sometimes he fell…sometimes he jumped; always end over end streaking through that clear blue sky.He blinked trying to convinced himselfthat this wasn’t real; it couldn’t be real.He could never move and never look away.Orange and khaki falling at terminal velocity and all he could do is watch.His heart was pounding as he tried to make himself run but his legs wouldn’t work.This…this was his penance for not helping that man or anyone else that day.Not even in his dreams could he run from the reality that he stood there….he stood there and did nothing._

_And then came that primal scream…that guttural sound that man made before he knew how to use words…it was the last utterance of a human being.A life that began with a scream and ended with one too.And then he woke up…._

**May 2003**

Bosco jerked awake in bed as he sat up gasping for air.The bed was empty and the room was dark.Blinking he came back to reality, no stranger to nightmares.Reaching for the bedside table he saw the clock glowing five thirty AM.Collapsing back into bed he took a deep breath staring at the ceiling. 

The backyard was shrouded in as much darkness as one could reasonably expect living in the city.Pushing himself up onto the picnic table he watched the two German Shepherds nose through the grass before parking themselves at his feet.Bosco rested his forearms on his knees as he stared out at the river.The sweat of his nightmare prickled and evaporated in the cool early morning air.Running an absent minded finger back and forth across his lower lip he stared at the water and forced himself to think of nothing. 

This was something he found himself doing often.Forcing himself to not think.To stop, for however brief, the God-awful reel of images in his head.It didn’t always work and more often then not he felt himself descend into the depths of yet another anxiety attack.He had gotten so good at hiding it, though, that most of the time no one even knew it was happening.The chest clenching, air stealing, dizzying feeling masked under a tight facade and excuses like ‘I must be getting old.’ Truth was nobody questioned a 9/11 survivor about shortness of breath or any other physical malady that seemed out of place; everyone was too afraid of the answer.The cost of that day, while heavily paid up front, continued to be paid weeks, and moths, and years later; and no one knew that better than him. 

* * *

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Bosco slammed the car door.Clicking the remote he locked the car doors pausing for a moment.He had sold his mustang to cover closing costs for the house.He had gotten a good deal on the black Ford Explorer and the car suited him.The mustang had been a salve to soothe something inside of him that seemed irrelevant now. Whatever he thought he needed that car for; he didn’t need it anymore.

Turning, he stuffed his hands in his pocket and began walking.The early spring air warmed his face as the sun was just beginning to rise in the sky.The coffee shop was familiar and his feet could take him there without a thought.Swinging the door open, the familiarity of it all soothed his nerves in a way he couldn’t explain.Scanning, his eyes landed on a table in the back. 

Bosco pulled the chair out and sat down.A coffee ready for him and waiting. “I hope you don’t mind…” Shaking his head he took a sip of the mocha and smiled. 

“After all this time, you should know how I take my coffee.”The older black woman nodded and smiled as she brought her own cup to her lips. 

Betty West was a seventy- something secretary that on September 11th walked to the eight floor and could walk no more.She had two stents, a pacemaker, and was in need of a knee replacement but she still worked because working was what she had always done.When the plane hit the tower she began to evacuate with everyone else; seventy eight, seventy seven, seventy six, it was easy at first but before long it got hard and she fell behind her co -workers, pushing them on with a wave and a forced smiled.No one wanted to leave her but the building was creaking and groaning something awful and while nobody knew a thing, a sense of palpable fear began to permeate the stairwell.Pretty soon she was the only one left hobbling down a flight and then stopping to take a break.As far as she knew, she had all day.When she got to eight her knees gave out and her heart was pounding; this was more exercise than she had done in the last ten years of her life combined. 

She sat there soaked in sweat and listening to the emergency lights buzzing around her wondering what to do next when she heard foot steps coming quick.A young cop appeared looking just as bad as she felt.He was bloody and sweaty, his hair was matted and stuck to his forehead.They stared at each there for a moment before she was quick to speak up. 

_‘Now you just go on.I just need a little rest and I’ll be good as new.”_

She didn’t want him to wait around because of her, she would make it out eventually.But unlike everyone else that she had encountered that day, this guy had a sense of extreme urgency.There was no time to waste.A plane had hit the building he told her and the South Tower had already collapsed. _NO! NO._ She just couldn’t believe that.These buildings were made of steel and concrete; solid as a rock. She stared at him in disbelief; all this time she thought there had been a chemical explosion, an electrical fire that broke out on the upper floors. A plane hit the building…and then another plane hit the south tower…what did that even mean?Before she could ask, the young cop picked her up and began running.She struggled against him, this was ridiculous…what was he thinking? But they kept going and every time she thought he was going to stumble, he stopped hoisted her up in his arms a little higher, grit his teeth, and kept moving. 

When they reached the lobby it was nearly empty.The FDNY command post had been abandoned and all the windows were broken.That was the only time he stopped, taking in the scene around him and inhaling sharply.Now that they were on level ground again she informed him that she could walk and he tentatively set her down on the dust covered linoleum. Betty didn’t have purse, her phone, or her wallet.Rubbing her sweaty palms on her pants she looked right to left not sure what to do next.And then a strange whistling sound and a crash from somewhere up above.It was so loud and it caused her to jump. 

_‘Must be some debris from up above…’_

If only she could have gone the rest of her life thinking that it was just debris. Casting a glance at the young cop she saw the stricken look on his face and the deep fear in his eyes.Grabbing her hand he began pulling her toward the exit that was covered by a foot bridge to Building Seven. 

‘ _It isn’t debris…it’s people.’_ He looked at her momentarily before moving quicker. _‘We need to get out of here.’_

The two of them made it about a block away, neither daring to look back or look up for fear of what they might see.The cop found an FDNY ambulance with two medics nearby; pushing Betty toward them he was mentioned that she had a heart condition and walked almost eighty flights.Before the could protest they loaded her up and away she went but not before she made apoint to look at the cop’s name plate. 

_‘Boscorelli’_

When this was all over she would find him and let him know just how much what he did meant to her.She fought him every step of the way but he never gave up on her.Seeing her all the way to safety even at the potential cost of his own. 

For three weeks after the eleventh she had no idea what had happened to the cop named Boscorelli that had saved her life that day. She often times worried that he went back into the building to help someone else.It hadn’t been long after she was whisked away that the building came down. Everyday she looked in the papers for his name, wondering what had happened to him and at the same time afraid to know for sure.Betty knew ten people that died in the tower that day and she went to every memorial, often times sitting in the back simultaneously praying for the deceased and thanking God that she didn’t make number eleven. 

Still she wondered how to find the cop named Boscorelli.The Park Slope Library was a few blocks from her house and on one October morning she made the walk, stopping every so often to rest those knees.She wasn’t a woman of technology and didn’t have a computer at home; knowing how to use one good enough for work but never seeing the need for herself.Sitting down she pushed her glasses up on her face and typed NYPD Boscorelli in the search bar.The first ten entries were articles related to the NYPD and 9/11.Pursing her lips she shook her head slightly; she knew all that she ever wanted to about that day from being there.And as if that wasn’t enough the non stop media coverage filled in all the rest.Advancing the browser to the next page she came upon an article about a female cop named YOKAS, killed in an automobile accident that February.Scanning, she found familiar name at the end of the article in what seemed to be an afterthought, ‘ _Her partner, Maurice Boscorelli, was driving but uninjured in the crash’._ Eyes going back to he headline she finally found what she wanted to know. _‘Crash in 55th Precinct kills Cop.’_ A little more searching revealed the location of the 55 at King and Arthur and without hesitation Betty knew what she had to do. 

Two days later she was sitting on a hard wooden bench holding a freshly baked apple pie watching the Lieutenant work up polite smiles for her benefit. The 55th precinct was a hive of activity as her eyes bounced left to right trying to take it all in.The door opened and a young cop walked in clearly engrossed in conversation with his partner.They laughed, completely in tune with one another, before the Lieutenant cleared his throat pointing toward Betty.With a creak and groan she pushed herself up to her feet hobbling toward the pair. 

She took him in for a moment; he looked younger now that he was clean but she was an old woman and everyone looked young to her.It was him though, the same man who saved her life on the eleventh.Holding the pie out she offered him the most grateful, sincere smile she could muster. _‘This is for you…’_ Bosco took the pie confused for a moment, she was sure that he had seen thousands of people since that day. _‘I’m sure you don’t remember me now….but I would be dead if not for you…still down there probably in that hopeless pile; lost forever. ‘_ Her eyes briefly misted over with tears as she looked away shaking her head. _‘And maybe I should be…I lived my life, a lot of others never had that chance .’_ She shrugged her shoulders.‘ _I don’t know why I’m here and they aren’t…but I do know it’s because of you…’_

“Betty ?” Snapping her eyes away from the windows she turned back to Bosco.Smiling sheepishly she shook the memories away. 

“Sorry honey…just thinking…” Bosco nodded, she did that a lot. Taking another sip of his coffee he looked out the window. 

“I was asking when you’re getting your knee done..”Betty shook her head.She was scheduled for surgery in a few months.Those knees that carried her down eighty flights had finally had enough. 

“A couple months….Don’t worry about me, though, I’ll be just fine.”Bosco shook his head as he stared at her.That day she showed up at the 55 with an apple pie was the beginning of the most unlikely friendship.Explaining that a measly pie, no matter how good it was and it was one of the best he had ever tasted, didn’t even come close to what he had done for her she invited him and his partner to her house in Brooklyn for Sunday dinner that week. After hemming and hawing a bit Bosco finally agreed although he didn’t feel it necessary by any means. 

One Sunday dinner turned into two and three and pretty soon twice a month every month.Betty, as he learned, had a big family and her house, no matter how small, always stretched to accommodate every last cousin and neighbor that decided to drop by.She was well known and loved in her own corner of Brooklyn, and Bosco soon felt himself swept up into her orbit of extended family.He had become good friends with her son, Rod, and most Sundays before dinner they played one on one in the park.Sometimes Davis would join them and even he too found himself at Betty’s table on occasion.Rod, who was so moved by what Bosco did for his mother on the eleventh, left his job as a mail carrier and signed up for the academy.He was about halfway through now and Bosco was working every connection he had in the department to get Rod assigned to the 55 after graduation. 

Thanksgiving at Betty’s this past year was something he would never forget.It seemed like everyone she had ever met was invited and like most Sundays, everyone brought a dish of their own not wanting to burden the woman although she insisted that was just silly.Bosco had made the biggest pot of meatballs he could imagine, tripling his grandma’s recipe.The house was full and Betty was in her element kissing everyone as they came and went.There was music, singing, laughing, and every food imaginable.Bosco and Rod sat on the back porch each with a plate piled high and a beer talking work, the academy, laughing and carrying on way too much.The screen door opened and Atlas came out looking sheepish; Betty chasing after him with a fly swatter.

_‘I seen what you done…..’_ Eyes meeting Bosco’s she raised her fist to the German Shepherd that was now sitting between him and Rod looking as guilty as he ever had. _‘Stole a piece of ham right off my table..’_ A laugh came from inside the doorway as Betty turned and smiled.Pointing her finger at Bosco she laughed. _‘And I told your pretty wife that I’ll kick his ass…Police Dog or not…I will kick his ass…’_

Liz stepped out around Betty laughing as she stuffed a forkful of food in her mouth.Bosco stared at her.While 2001 was probably the worst year of his life, 2002 had been the best.And it started with making this woman his forever earlier that year in a small, quiet ceremony.It wasn’t much but it was perfect.

“How’s that pretty wife of yours ?”Bosco blinked a few times exhaling loudly.Nodding he pushed all the fear and anxiety he had away as he forced himself to nod. 

“She’s ok.I’m going to pick her up in a couple hours…surgery went good, looks like they got everything.”Betty nodded, a sad smile crossing her lips, before she smiled at him reassuringly.

“She’ll be ok….you’ll see.You and Liz were meant for each other, and you’re going to have each other for a long, long time.” Leaning across the table she rose her eyebrows for emphasis. “Ipromise..and I don’t lie..you know that.” 

Bosco forced a smile as he swallowed hard.Betty had all but legally adopted him as another son and in doing so had given Bosco something that he had always longed for.A family.A real family.Betty’s own family wasn’t perfect, her brother was in jail, her eldest daughter dead from drugs, and her husband long gone from cancer.But despite that she created a family from friends and neighbors, second cousins and long lost aunties, and one cop who’s name she never forgot. 

While he loved the Sunday suppers and the rowdy holiday get togethers; this time, these one on one meetings in a non-descript coffee shop in Park Slope, these meant the most to him.Sometimes they laughed, sometimes they cried, and sometimes they talked about the eleventh with each other, a sense of unspoken knowing between them. 

“I had another nightmare last night…same as always.” She exhaled silently.Other than Liz, Betty was the only other person who knew about the man wearing orange and khaki. 

“You’re all out of sorts…Liz being the hospital…when she gets back home and you two get back into your routine…it’ll be better…”. The was the other thing about Betty, right or wrong, her folksy, down to earth wisdom never failed to calm his nerves when he felt himself getting a little too wound up. 

Bosco looked at his watch knowing that he had to get going.“Rod going to pick you up or you want me to ride you home?” 

Betty shook her head, “No baby, Rod is going to pick me up.He was all worked up about his range qualifications…I told him it can’t be that hard…I carried a gun in my purse for years.” 

Bosco shook his head a smirk coming to his face before becoming serious.“Rod has nothing to worry about, he’s going to be a great cop…”

“Now you better get going.”Bosco stood placing a ten on the table.“And give that pretty wife of yours a kiss from me…”. Bosco smiled slightly.

“I will.See you on Sunday.” 

“See you baby…I’m making fried chicken so you better come hungry.”Bosco waved as the door slammed behind him.

* * *

Pulling under the over hang of NY Presbyterian Hospital Bosco guided the Explorer toward the curb and put on the four way flashers.Liz told him not worry about parking; that she would meet him at the door.He tried to convince her that she should be taking it easy; she had just had surgery for Christ’s sake.But he was met with a stern reply that no fussing was necessary.Bosco wound down the window as a Hispanic man dressed in a valet’s uniform approached him.

“Can I help you, pal?”Shaking his head he gestured toward the door.

“Picking someone up…she should be right out.”The guy nodded hesitantly. 

  
“Right….I can let you stay here for about ten minutes but no more…backs the traffic up back onto York.”Bosco smiled at him, as his eyes wandered toward the exit wondering if she got hung up at the elevator.Maybe he should park…God only knows if the doctor was running late or if she needed another…

Before Bosco could finish that thought his eyes roamed over to the doorway. A familiar figure was being pushed toward the exit in a wheelchair.Her once long chestnut hair was now short on one side and shaved on the other; a defiant statement to let cancer know it could fuck off any time now.Attempting to push herself up, the older blonde nurse behind her reacted quickly and put a hand on her shoulder pushing her back down.The door swung open as Liz turned around and scowled; the woman behind her not the least bit fazed. 

Bosco stuck his arm out of the driver’s side window waving to let them know he was here.Seeing this, Liz once again attempted to get out of the chair only to be put back where she belonged with a firm hand and stern look.Clearly annoyed she shook her head, absent-mindedlyfingering the dressing on her neck.Bosco smirked at the display clearly amused by his wife’s insistence.The valet leaned against Bosco’s hood as he too cracked a smile.The nurse stopped pushing the chair when it was right next to the Explorer.Liz gripped the padded arm rails before turning around, throwing the older nurse a scowl.

“Can I get up now?”Sideling up next to the chair the nurse bent over to set the brakes.

“Not until the brakes are on…” It was clear to everyone there that the blonde woman was enjoying this just a little.Liz let out a huff as she rolled her eyes.

Bosco laughed at he stretched across the console opening the door for her.The nurse looked at him and smirked.“Now you take good care of her, Bosco.”She knew his name because he had been there last night after the surgery and had called about ten times this morning; just to make sure he understood everything and knew exactly what to do.Liz jumped into the Explorer slamming the door.“We will miss her so much.”Neither of them missed the sarcasm as Bosco laughed while Liz continued to scowl.

“Well the feeling isn’t mutual.”The nurse smiled warmly and waved as Bosco pulled away. 

As he turned onto York heading toward home he reached across the console for her hand.“What’s the matter? You didn’t like spending the night?”He knew damn well she didn’t like anything about it.

“It’s just my thyroid, Bosco.Simple.But they treat you like it’s a major thing.I mean all night checking the bandage, drawing blood, vitals, ‘Are you in pain, Mrs. Boscorelli?”Bosco felt a tingle go down his spine when she said that.He always felt that tingle.This woman, this incredible woman was his wife. No matter how much he tried to figure it out, he still couldn’t get his head around it. “And then i just want to go down to the cafeteria…I mean I was hungry. Jesus Christ I haven’t eaten in two days. But fuck, you would think that place is Alcatraz.That old blonde Nurse Ratchet was there waiting…” Leaning forward she flipped the visor down and pulled the bandage back. “We better check it when we get home for a tracking device.Took the Thyroid, put a Lo-Jack in.”

Bosco laughed as she replaced the bandage carefully.When he thought he knew every reason he loved her, she found a way to give him just one more.The Thyroid Cancer had been a surprise; it began like sore throat that never went away.Three weeks of that and they finally had an answer.The doctor felt it was caused by her exposure to whatever was down there.And Liz wasn’t alone, guys in the department were dropping like flies with all sorts of strange ailments. Nonetheless three months of radiation and now surgery; she was supposed to be cured but he just couldn’t relax no matter how much reassuring had been done.Squeezing his hand, Liz brought him back to reality. 

“Hey…it’s over.We’re going to put this behind us and get on with things.”She was scared, she had to be but she didn’t show it.Most of the time she made light of the whole situation and for that he loved her even more.Attitude really was everything in life. Bosco nodded but remained silent.“So did Frick and Frack miss me?” 

Bosco rolled his eyes as he groaned. Atlas had retired form the NYPD earlier this year for the second and final time.His service at Ground Zero had left him with a chronic skin condition that made him scratch himself raw.He liked to work but he liked laying around the house more so in the end retirement suited him just fine. Shortly after they got Callie, a German Shepherd pup that was still being trained for service.They had picked the name, Callie as a tribute to Callahan; their brother who never made it home that day.After the eleventh Bosco had decided to take the K-9 handler course becoming certified almost a year later.When Callie finished her training, she would be Bosco’s dog. 

“Well….this morning Callie threw up on the bedroom carpet and before I could clean it up Atlas came over and ate it.” 

Liz crinkled her nose as she shook her head. “Those two are quite the pair.” 

Bosco cast a glance at her before looking back out the window, a smile breaking out across his face. “I know the feeling.”Looking at him momentarily, her tired face relaxed for the first time in days as she wound the window down, the warm spring air ruffling her hairas they drove. 

* * *

Groaning, Liz rolled over in bed as a dissatisfied German Shepherd stood and jumped onto the floor. Moaning Atlas found a spot on the carpet and stretched his big body out again. 

“You make too much heat anyway…” Kicking at the covers where the dog had been she adjusted the blanketsand scooted toward Bosco resting her chin on his shoulder.Turning his head ever so slightly he sighed as her face rested against his.Snaking her arm down through the covers she found his hand and twisted her fingers through his.“Of all the things I missed last night, this is what I missed the most.” 

Bosco hummed in agreement as the power groaned and the lights flickered for what felt like the tenth time tonight.Power surges and failures had been going on all throughout the city for the better part of the afternoon and evening.Some areas had been completely out, others only periodically.Davis had called him a few hours ago and let him know the 55 was a real mad house, no power in the precinct for hours. Under any other circumstances both he and Liz would have been called in but everyone at the house knew about her and the cancer and wouldn’t dare bother either of them right now; they could make do, they had before. 

Reaching his right arm toward her he wrapped it around her shoulders drawing her in close to him as they both felt the magnetic pull of sleep after a very long day.On the floor both dogs jerked awake as Bosco’ s cell phone rang loudly.He didn’t really care who it was, there was no place he had to be right now except for right here.After a few rings it went silent only to immediately start ringing again.Exhaling loudly Bosco still didn’t move as Liz groaned.

“Who keeps calling? Don’t they know I’m a sick woman and I need my sleep?”Bosco smirked as he loosened his grip on her shoulder.Rolling over he picked up the cellphonelooking at the caller ID. _‘Sullivan’_.He was probably calling to bitch about working during a black out.Silencing the phone he threw it back on the night stand.“Who is it?” 

Pulling her into him once again, Bosco spoke with an edge of irritation in his voice. “Sullivan…he knows where I am and he knows I’m not coming in…so he can suck it.”

Liz didn’t reply as she once again felt herself drifting off in the momentary silence.Just as sleep was about to claim her the phone once again began to ring.Letting go of her Bosco pushed himself up with every intention to tell Sully to piss off.Flipped the phone open, his voice came out in sharp staccato.

“Someone better be dead…” He was silent for a moment which caused Liz’s eyes to flutter open.Pushing herself up to her elbow she stared at his back, a sense of dread settling in her heart.“When? OK…OK I’ll be right there.” 

“What’s going on?”Bosco stood as he looked at her, worry etched onto his face. 

  
Shrugging his shoulders he shook his head in disbelief. “That was Sully…..Fred Yokas is dead.”

**I can’t believe I am writing another Third Watch Fanfic, least of all fifteen years after the show went off the air.I don’t expect this to get many views and or comments but it was an idea that just wouldn’t leave me alone.Updates will be sporadic and this won’t be as long or as epic as “Last Exit to Brooklyn”. If you do find yourself here please drop me a line.Thanks for reading as always.**


	2. Chapter 2

“Gun Hill Road” 

Author: carmen_085

Disclaimer: I don’t own any Third Watch characters. All original characters in this belong to me

Summary: In the years following 9/11 Bosco and Liz struggle with health issues and emotional trauma. But when Fred dies suddenly, Faith’s children have no where to go. Can Bosco and Liz keep their own demons at bay and give Emily and Charlie a good life? (Sequel to “Last Exit to Brooklyn”)

Chapter Two

Bringing the car to a stop outside Angel of Mercy, Bosco turned the key and took a deep breath, He had been inside Mercy too many times to count since the night Faith had died. Each time it got a little easier and a few times he was so caught up in whatever task had sent him there that he hadn’t thought of that night at all. But once in a while, when his mind took to wandering those dark places, all it took was a glance toward the trauma bay… and he was right back there. Seeing nothing but her….hearing nothing but her….feeling nothing but her. It didn't happen often; but when it did, he found he could do little to stop it. All he could do was hold on and wait for the tidal wave of memories to wash over him. 

Having someone who he trusted completely, someone he could be completely exposed in front of without fear of judgment, that helped; and for the first time in his life he actually began confronting all the shit instead of just putting it away. Before her, he drank when something bothered him, or he beat the shit out of someone, or he buried it so deep it was almost gone…almost. That worked for a long time, but now….now he had to do better. Because for the first time in his life, not only did he have someone who deserved better, he also had someone who convinced him that HE deserved better. 

The parking lot was buzzing with activity like always as Bosco climbed out of the Explorer, his young, handsome features were distorted by flashing read and white lights. Closing the door he turned, leaning his forearms against the top of the car. Taking a deep breath he pinched his eyes shut for a moment. He had to keep it together; tonight wasn’t about him.Straightening himself up, Bosco brushed the front of his blue NYPD jacket off even though there was nothing on it; just seemed like something he needed to do to make himself feel more put together in that moment. Turning he began walking toward the entrance, the yellow lights from inside beckoning him in the worst kind of way. ‘Whatever happens inside, I have a home…and a wife that loves me.’ That was something he told himself over and over; never out loud although he wouldn’t be embarrassed if the words did slip from his mouth. No matter what happened to him, what terrible shit he had to go through; he knew she would always be waiting on the other side of it. The home they built together and the life they shared…that was everything. It was greater than anything this world could throw at them. 

“Bosco!” Turning he saw Carlos sitting on the stretcher in the back of Adam 55-3 restocking the cabinets. Hesitating for a moment, Bosco stepped away from the door walking toward the bus. Leaning against the open back doors he looked down already knowing the medic hadn’t beckoned him over for small talk. Looking up they met each other’s eyes and everything Bosco had suspected was confirmed by the look on Nieto’s face. Sighing he shook his head as he offered Bosco the most apologetic smile he could muster. “I’m sure you know…”

The muscles of Bosco’s jaw flexed as he nodded. “Yeah….Sullivan called me.” He felt Carlos’s gaze linger for a moment before looking away, trying to seem busy with whatever he was doing. He and Nieto had never been especially close, although, everyone at the 55 knew how Bosco had continued to look after Faith’s children after she was gone. The shuffling stopped as Carlos sighed loudly. 

  
“We did everything we could….” Before the medic had the chance to work up anymore platitudes, Bosco’s gaze cut him off.

“I know you did….” Nodding more to himself than anyone else, he looked back down at the pavement. 

Carlos was never good with words, so he remained silent. What else could he say? Fred Yokas was dead. Pushing himself off the back of the bus, Bosco looked around the parking lot. He was delaying the inevitable. Making brief eye contact with Nieto he exhaled loudly, no sense standing here working up platitudes or trying to rationalize why shit like this happened. “Might as well get this over with….” Carlos met his gaze before nodding; he and Bosco were alike in a lot of ways and while they may have clashed at times on the job Carlos had always respected him. Not just for the shit he had been through, but also because that he was still here…still doing this job, still showing up everyday. Turning Bosco began to walk before he heard Nieto yell after him. 

“The hits just keep on coming….huh?” Bosco met his eyes once more before a wry smile came to his face. 

Shrugging he stuffed his hands in his pockets, “One day I’ll be old and bored….I’m looking forward to it.” Nieto smirked as Bosco turned toward the inevitable. The yellow glow of the ER illuminated his face as he stood staring through the glass. He wished, for once, he could just be on the outside looking in. Spectator to tragedy rather than at the center of it. People in scrubs ran back and forth inside; orchestrated chaos like always. 

Fuck…he was almost numb at this point. After the Eleventh; death wasn’t a novelty anymore. It wasn’t the climax of emotion that it should be. He had simply seen too much of it for it to hurt that like anymore. If something happened to Sully or Davis…to his Ma or even Mikey; he would feel that…of course he would. And if something happened to Liz; well….that would be it. He wouldn't recover from that and he knew it. But beyond his innermost circle….beyond “His People”, he just didn’t have the possess the capacity to feel that anymore. The non stop carnage downtown had blunted that part of him until it was dull. A person could only feel so much, and he had felt it all. 

The ER doors slid open as a burst of air washed over him. Bleach….it always smelled like chlorine bleach here. Not offensively so, like a public pool, but remarkable just the same. Medics he didn’t know moved past him with an empty stretcher and cups of coffee in their hands, a janitor pushed a mop over a stain in the hallway, a couple of cops stood against the wall on the phone; Bosco dissolved into the bustle and for that he was grateful. Had the brass been lined up, each with their own signature look of pity, he might not have made it past the door. 

“Bosco !” Sully was leaning against the nurse’s station. His normal scowling expression had dissolved into a grim line. Behind him, Davis stared at the floor, his own face solemn. 

Bosco swallowed hard, “Where is he ?” 

* * *

  
The door to the exam room was closed. They had moved him to a place in the back, away from the chaos, and for that Bosco was grateful. Resting his hand on the door knob he exhaled slowly, deliberately. He and Fred had never been close, that was no secret, despite that he was still Emily and Charlie’s dad and everyone knew that Bosco would do anything for those kids.

Just be there...stand in my place the best that you can and never let them forget how much I loved them

Those were some of the last words that Faith had ever said to him. No way could they be confused or misunderstood; they were black and white on the page- clear, direct, unapologetic. Faith had left this world and entrusted him with the two people who meant the most to her. And even if it took the rest of his life, he would never stop trying to live up to that.   
Turning the knob, Bosco pushed the door open as he stepped inside. His shoes squeaked on the tile floor as the background noise of the ER faded to a dull hum. The overhead fluorescent lights were turned off, but an exam light was on and pointed at the green tiled wall giving the entire room a peaceful glow. In the dim lighting, Fred looked like maybe he had just fallen asleep. Like any moment he was going to sit straight up and start baiting Bosco into an argument for old time’s sake. 

Walking slowly, he came to a stop next to the bed as he stared down. The breathing tube was still in him along with all the the other equipment required to try and bring a man back to life. He would, no doubt, go to the ME for an autopsy; forty year old men just didn’t drop dead without someone wanting an explanation. Not that it would make any of this better or easier to understand.

Frankly, he wasn’t even sure that he understood it himself. Fred hadn’t even lived half his life yet ...How could this happen? Sully told him what he knew which wasn’t much. There had been rolling black outs all over the city, the power grid overworked from an unusually warm May afternoon. They found him down in an elevator, nobody knows how long he had been there; the emergency call button had a Sharpie X over it. Elevator safety was a big thing right now, a woman had been decapitated a few months ago after a malfunction in the lobby of one of those fancy midtown buildings with a doorman. The city had been cracking down on code enforcement...some good that did Fred right now. Shaking his head, Bosco let his eyes slip closed. 

“Fred needs to see a doctor...he’s overweight and he drinks too much..” The RMP rounded a corner as Faith reached for the dash to keep herself from swaying in the seat. 

“Oh come on....” Bosco shook his head incredulously, “He plays a lot of softball...that’s gotta count for something...” Looking at Faith he was met with daggers before she ran her tongue over the front of her teeth in disgust. She always did that when she was annoyed. Smirking, Bosco looked back toward the road. 

Snippets...fragments of a memory...that was all Bosco had left of her. He remembered the big things, those he would never forget, but the everyday stuff it was fading and one day he knew it would be gone all together. It was strange what he remembered, though, and when he remembered it. That day in the car, her bitching about Fred needing to see a doctor, he had forgotten all about it until now. Eyes settling on the man in front of him, his pale face and lifeless body, Bosco was suddenly filled with unexpected sadness. 

Emily and Charlie.

They had no one now; both of their parents gone in just over two years. What was he going to tell them? Where would they go? Who would look after them? Emily had just turned fifteen and Charlie…Charlie was only nine years old. Bosco swallowed hard as the full weight of the situation came to rest on his shoulders. They had grandparents of course and there was Faith’s brother, Stanley, who lived in Connecticut. Someone would be there, to step in...that’s what family did, or at least that’s what he thought they did. God knows he had nothing to compare it to himself. It would be alright... they would be taken care of.

But right now they didn’t know. 

They didn’t know. Bosco’s knees felt weak as he squatted down next to the stretcher, his fingers white knuckled the railing as he squeezed. Closing his eyes, he tried to conjure up the words he would use to tell two kids that their father was dead. Nothing came to mind...in fact less than nothing came to mind as his eyes fluttered open. His gaze focused on Fred’s lifeless gray fingers curled on the bed in front of him. He was dead. 

Dead.

There was no going back from this or undoing it. Pushing himself back up, Bosco blinked a few times just to make sure he wasn’t imagining this. He and Fred had their differences, that was for sure, but after the eleventh things changed between them. They weren’t friends and would never be, but Fred had willingly carved out a place in their lives for Bosco. He didn’t have to...but he did it anyway. And with that place came a certain trust and mutual respect between them. Although Bosco knew he was deserving of that place, he never stopped trying to prove to Fred that he had made the right decision. Nodding at Fred he whispered, “I won’t let you down.” 

Turning to leave, he shut the door behind him. Pausing for a moment in the hallway he looked around, feeling oddly relieved that he was alone. Looking up at the tile ceiling he silently hoped that wherever Fred was that he had found Faith, and that they would give him the strength for what came next.

* * *

Bosco could find his way to Faith’s apartment blindfolded if he had to. He knew every turn, every bump, every light. He’d driven these roads on sunny days and cold winter nights; both in the radio car and on foot. He knew this neighborhood like the back of his hand. The streets were dark as he inhaled looking at the dashboard clock…nine pm. 

He was surprised that Emily hadn’t called him; she had to be wondering where Fred was. Although, now that she was getting older she made it a point to let him know that she could do it….whatever it was, she could do it. She could take care of things and she didn't need him. Bosco smirked and nodded the first time she said that to him, in all her fifteen year old indignation. Emily did good for a teenager, she was mature beyond her years, forced into being an adult far too early. But just because she didn’t need him didn’t mean that once in a while she didn’t want him. Want and need were two different things when it came to teenagers and some situations were just beyond what she could do alone. And Bosco…well Bosco was always there. Just like Faith said.

“Just be there for them…stand in my place.” 

The light turned red as Bosco brought the Explorer to a stop. His mind began to churn in its characteristic anxious way as he felt his heart thud in his chest. Fred’s parents were getting up in age and his dad had just had a stroke last year. From what Emily told him Grandma Shirley was hard to deal with and had made it clear she had her hands full. Faith’s parents were worse yet; her mom was dysfunctional at best and her dad was a fall down drunk. Since Faith’s death, they had faded into the far background awash in their own chronic misery. Then there was also Faith’s brother, Stanley, the uppity prick from Connecticut as Fred used to call him. Bosco had never met the guy but had heard Fred call him every name in the book. He had even pulled Bosco aside on a few occasions, drunk of course and spitting all over the place, trying to form an ally against the brother in law. He usually smiled and nodding, mumbling something about his own derelict brother, and then excused himself on out of there. Being in between all that was no placed he wanted to be. Stanley had his own family; his own life. From a afar it seemed like there were plenty of people in the extended Yokas orbit but up close it was another story. What if no one wanted them....they would become wards of the state...go into the system. 

Bosco felt his chest tighten as he suddenly felt lightheaded like he might pass out. The traffic light swung in the warm breeze as he cranked the AC up. Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel he felt antsy and impatient....why the hell was this light taking so long anyway? Casting a glance toward the park he tried to get his mind to settle; one thing at a time. 

There was him, of course, but who was he ? A friend ? Their dead mother’s ex-partner...what was that ? He was far from perfect...far from what anyone would want as a father. He was doing better, yes that was true, and his life was as stable as it had been in a long time. He had a wife, and a house of his own. He still worked the third watch but after everything in Brooklyn and the eleventh he was content for the first time in his career. He didn’t want more...didn’t want to be in the shit; ESU, Anti-Crime, Undercover, they could keep it. All he wanted was to go home to his wife every night. And yet...despite that he still couldn’t imagine anyone wanting or asking him to take permanent guardianship of two children. He struggled with anxiety daily....had pulled a gun on a doctor once...and let’s not forget the night he spent in Riker’s. In a pinch sure...but forever; no way. No one was desperate enough to think that was a good idea, not even him. 

The light turned to green as he hit the accelerator, his head spinning with what ifs and maybes. He blinked as his heart raced; he needed to calm down. But he couldn’t, and the more he tried to make himself the worse it got. He had learned that anxiety bred more anxiety which usually culminated in a tidal wave of nervous energy otherwise known as a panic attack. Once it built to that level, all he could do was hold on until it washed over him; and just like a tidal wave he usually felt the most profound sense of emptiness afterwards: completely drained and exhausted. Abruptly he jerked the wheel to the right as the SUV rubbed against the curb with a whine. Throwing the door open he leaned over the public trash can and heaved. White knuckling the rim of the can he emptied his stomach into the black hole. A fine sweat broke out across his back as he felt his white t-shirt sticking to him. The nausea eventually passed as he squatted down catching his breath. Thankfully, the sidewalk was empty affording him just a moment’s peace. 

Closing his eyes he rest his forearms over bent knees, his hands folded placidly together. One deep breath and then another; the tidal wave washed over his head as he felt his chest loosen and air return to his lungs. Pushing himself up to his feet he felt shaky, the adrenaline flowing out of him. He wanted to go home....God, he wanted to go home so bad right now. He wanted to go and lay down in bed, close his eyes and forget this whole night ever happened. He wanted to listen to the peaceful sounds of his wife and two dogs sleeping next to him. He wanted to be normal...no crises...no tragedies...just normal. Want and need, though, are two different things and what he needed to do right now was get going. 

Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand he climbed back into the driver’s seat. One day at a time...one hour at a time...one minute at a time. Checking the mirrors he pulled back out into traffic. He would get through this; someway...somehow he would get through this night. 

* * *

  
The building was quiet as he stepped through the front door into the lobby. He’d been here too many times to count; some visits more memorable than others. The night Faith invited him over for dinner and Fred came bursting through the door drunk. He started up the stairs, his legs feeling weak and unsteady. The night he returned Emily after she saved him from blowing his brains out…God he had been so close. Grabbing the railing he pulled himself up another flight. The night he and Fred came to blows in the hallway. Turning the corner, Bosco’s eyes settled on Apartment 3B. And now tonight…the night he would tell Emily and Charlie that both their parents were dead. 

He paused for a moment. He shouldn’t be doing this; he should be just coming to get them, take them down to Mercy where Faith would do this. Tell them they didn’t have a father anymore. IT seemed like something they should hear from their mother. Except….Except they didn’t have a mother anymore either. No mother and no father…..Bosco sucked in a sharp breath as he stopped on the other side of the door. Nothing between him and everything that came after this but a thin piece of wood. Raising his fist, he knocked hesitantly, softly; half wishing that no one was home. He waited and there was silence. Reaching into his pocket he fished out a familiar object. Faith’s keys. The keys she left in her locker on that day…her last day. The day she thought she would be going home but never did. They were in the box with the rest of her things that Fred never bothered to claim. Three keys and two key chains; a generic NYPD crest and one from the Jersey Shore , a little seashell. He looked at it enough, turned it over in his hand, thought about the way it felt in his pocket. Bosco knew he should have given it back to Fred a long time ago. Knew that it wasn’t his to have. But he didn’t care, it made him feel better to know that if something happened, if he had to get to Emily or Charlie he could. Not that he wouldn’t mind kicking the door if need be, but this wasn’t a drug house…it was their home.

Sliding the key into the lock he realized his hand was trembling. Bosco stopped, closing his eyes for a moment as he exhaled. This was it, this was the last moment he got to think of himself, to wallow in his own anxieties and misery; the last moment he got to be weak. After he opened the door it wasn’t about him anymore; it was all about them. Opening his eyes he forced himself to stand up a little straighter. He could do this, he had to do this. 

Pushing the key into the lock he turned it. The apartment was mostly dark as he stepped inside closing the door softly behind him. The TV in the living room cast a dim glow as his eyes fell on Emily asleep on the couch, a biology text book opened and laying across her chest. Walking quietly toward the bedrooms he saw the door open to the kid’s room and Charlie carefully tucked into bed, a star projector casting a galaxy panorama on the ceiling. Emily must have put him to bed; only fifteen but already an adult in so many ways. Silently Bosco moved back toward the living room, his eyes falling on the teenager’s sleeping form. What he was about to do would shatter her already broken world. 

Swallowing hard, he moved quietly, careful not to startle or scare her. Sitting down on the coffee table, he laid a hand on her shoulder shaking her gently. 

“Emily…” She stirred lifting the heavy textbook off her chest as she looked around the dark apartment. 

“Daddy?” Bosco’s heart seized in his chest. How often had he found himself in this moment. This moment of oblivion, a second maybe two, right when he woke up before all the world’s problems came back into focus. 

“No, honey, it’s me.” Pushing herself up she blinked looking at him, trying to make sense of why he was sitting there. 

“It’s dark…” And then it dawned on her, it WAS dark and Fred wasn’t here. Pushing herself up, the biology text book hit the carpet with a thud. “Where’s my dad ?” Reflexively she scooted back into the couch, away from him….away from whatever he was about to tell her. 

“Em….” He sighed, letting a breath out. Her hands curled around the edge of the couch, knuckles going white. 

“Is he hurt? Did he wreck the truck…” Maybe if she guessed it, said it first, it would be easier to take. Bosco looked down at the floor, unable to meet her eyes. They sat in silence for a moment and that was when she knew. Her mother’s partner was the most honest person she ever met; he never beat around the bush, never minced words. And his silence in this moment could only mean one thing. Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt her stomach turn. “How?” 

The word was uttered through clenched teeth, strangled as if it had untangled itself from the deepest vines inside of her. She knew, without him telling her she knew. No other kid would have raced to this conclusion so fast, but Emily had been here before. This shaky emotional pit was familiar ground for her. Meeting her eyes he reached for her hand and was silently relieved that she let him take it. 

“They found him down in an elevator, the power had been out for a while. It looks like it was his heart.” Her lips parted as Bosco saw something wash over her face. Sadness….fear….no. Guilt.   
Tears slid down her porcelain white cheeks as she subconsciously tucked the hair behind her ears, needing something…anything, to occupy her hands in that moment. Inhaling sharply he watched as she angrily swiped the tears from her face. Bosco was expecting her to lose it, to fall apart and begin sobbing in his arms but instead she sat herself up and took a deep breath. 

“Where is he?” 

Bosco nodded sadly, “He’s at Mercy.” 

Confusion passed over her for a moment. The hopeful optimism of a child cracking through her carefully curated adult facade. “Why is he at Mercy if he isn’t….” Did she actually consciously think that thought or was it some deep protective mechanism triggering itself to protect her. Denial; the last calm waters before the tidal wave crashed into you. Bosco would know, he had treaded plenty of water in that same place. 

Shaking his head slowly a sad smile ghosted across his lips. “Doc and Carlos transported him, they did everything they could. Everyone did everything they could.” 

Emily nodded slowly. She heard the words Bosco was saying but she didn’t feel them, not yet anyway. After her mom had died, her daddy told her that they needed to keep their heads up. He told her that they all had jobs to do now and hers was to always keep moving forward. Yes, what happened to her mom was tragic but she still had her whole life out ahead of her. And Charlie needed her, he needed to see that she was ok, that they would all be ok. Right now she was numb, not thinking past this moment. She had a job to do and that was to take care of her brother, and make sure he knew that they would be ok. 

Raising her chin a little she sniffed as she wiped the last of her tears away. “I’ll wake Charlie. Seeing you will scare him.” She stood as Bosco looked up at her in more ways than one. She was fifteen, just a kid still, but she handled herself better than even he would. He knew that he wasn’t that mature at fifteen, hell at that age all he was thinking about was getting in some girl’s pants. As she went to move past him he grabbed her arm drawing her attention back to his face. He didn’t need to ask, she knew what he wanted. “I’ll tell him…..” 

Bosco suddenly felt unnecessary. He came over here with the expectation of having to do all the heavy lifting, but Emily had taken the burden onto herself before he even had the chance. Bosco watched her pause and square her shoulders before opening the bedroom door. No matter how much she looked like a grown up right now he knew that she couldn’t keep this up forever. 

Emily pushed the door open to Charlie’s room as her legs suddenly felt shaky. She thought back to the night her mother had been killed and her father came into her room like this. He sat on the edge of the bed and told her that Mommy had gone to heaven. She was twelve. She didn’t understand death but she knew that heaven wasn’t a place anyone came back from. Once you left for heaven you were gone for good. So that’s what it meant to her in that moment, her mommy was gone forever. She cried and Fred sat there for a while holding her close. Charlie was asleep across the room, still blissfully unaware he didn’t have a mother anymore. Just like he was laying here now, blissfully unaware that he was an orphan. Inhaling sharply Emily sat down on the edge of the bed.

Bosco turned the TV off as he sat in silence waiting…for what he didn’t know. A soft murmuring of voices and followed by silence. He expected to hear a scream next, a cry…anything but it was just silent. Bosco turned, peering toward the hallway. Just as quickly as Emily had disappeared into the room she reappeared in the hallway. The light flicked on as he saw the helpless look on her face before the door slammed shut. 

“YOU’RE LYING…IT ISN’T TRUE!!” She stood there paralyzed unsure what to do next, her hands trembling at her sides, her heart racing. Bosco stood up as the door swung open again. Charlie appeared in the doorway looking angry that he had been woken up for such a rotten prank. When he saw Bosco standing in the living room, an urgent fear washed over the boy as his breath hitched. Taking a few steps back he looked between his sister and Bosco not willing to believe it just yet. “NO !! Daddy said he’s coming to my Little League game tomorrow and he never misses !!” Pushing past Emily he stalked toward Fred’s room. “DADDY ?! DADDY ?!” 

Emily turned away walking past Bosco. Sitting down on the couch she covered her ears with her hands, her face buried in her lap. When Charlie didn’t find Fred in his room he returned to his own and slammed the door shut again. Bosco heard the bed springs creak and then the unmistakable howl of a child realizing that their father was gone. Exhaling he felt glued in place, unsure of what to do next. On the couch, Emily sat up. Her hands slid down fractionally away form her ears as she visibly winced hearing her brother sobbing in the next room. She was shaking now, her entire body trembling almost uncontrollably as her eyebrows knit together, her face screwed up with fear and grief. 

“Bosco ?!” It was urgent, seeking, desperate. It was fearful, anxious, hopeless. Coming to sit in front of her, he didn’t think twice before he pulled her into his arms. No matter how tight he held her she wouldn’t stop shaking as the grief and shock of that moment manifested itself physically. Running a hand through her hair he felt her latch onto his t-shirt, twisting the fabric in her fingers. There were no tears, though, not yet anyway. Right now she was too numb to cry. 

“Shhhh….” He stroked the back of her head. “I’ll handle Charlie, don’t worry.” She nodded against his chest, all of her adult composure crumbling into the space between them. “Em…listen I don’t know what’s going to happen next but whatever you need…..whatever I got….it’s yours.” Inhaling he nodded his head more for his own benefit than hers. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere….” 

TBC ….

I created a board for “Last Exit to Brooklyn” on Pinterest if anyone is interested  
Username: carmenk543  
Board: Last Exit to Brooklyn 


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